Waiting
by wizzcat
Summary: Sarah feels like she's spent the last sixteen years waiting for something to return into her life - looks like she doesn't have to wait too much longer...


_AN - This is my first piece of Fanfiction, so thank you for taking the time to look at at. It really should be part of the 100 Themes Challenge, (No. 55 – Waiting) but I'm kind of intrigued by it, so I've decided to keep it separate for now as I'm thinking of adding to it._

_Just to say, anyone reading from outside of the UK, remember we have a tendency to spell some words differently (mainly we add extra U's, colour/color etc). However, as Sarah's an American I've tried to use the correct terms where she's concerned (trash instead of rubbish etc). If I've got any wrong please feel free to drop me a message!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Labyrinth characters etc etc._

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**Waiting**

Sarah busied herself around the large old kitchen, clearing up after the evenings events, piling plates and gathering up the empty bottles – yes, she knew that Karen had told her not to, that she was a guest, and would take care of it herself in the morning.

But since when had she ever done as Karen had asked her?

She just couldn't help herself and started loading the dishwasher, still feeling like she had years of adolescent behaviour to make up for where Karen was concerned. Besides, it wasn't like she was going to be able to sleep, the old house always made her feel restless whenever she returned home – like it was watching her, judging her, it knew her secrets and always found little ways to remind her of them.

Dad and Karen had turned in for the night after the last of the party guests had finally departed and Toby had left earlier in the evening to meet his friends in town, she wasn't expecting to see him home again until the early hours of the morning – not after the row that had kicked off. It wasn't everyday you finally realised you were old enough to bail on the parties your parents organised. She couldn't blame him really, no one else there had been under the age of thirty, and most had been frightfully dull – even Sarah herself had been in 'smile and nod' mode for most of the evening. Things only picking up after the usual unexpected guest showed up, then proceeded to hide all the car keys, finish off the vol-au-vents (just as well, as nobody else was eating them) and go on to save her from a fate – almost – worse than certain death…

She winced at the memory of Roger and his 'helping hands'.

But, finally she was alone and the house was quiet – well almost she thought observing the goblin now happily working its way through the trash.

"I hope you're going to clear that up when you're done?" She asked hopefully.

Fat chance she knew, after sixteen years she was used to cleaning up after the unexpected houseguests that occasionally dropped in. It nodded it's head a little too eagerly causing a drop of salvia to fly across the room at her, all the while trying to remove an empty can of dog food that it had inadvertically wedged its foot into.

If it had another brain cell it would be dangerous…

Still, it could be worse, this one was relatively well behaved compared to some, a fact confirmed by the lack of 'eau d bog' that sometimes accompanied them. It was always hard enough trying to explain away the mess, missing items, or taking a sip of coffee when you know you'd made tea, but that smell only resulted in a lot of embarrassment and pointed looks in the general direction of the dog.

Over the past sixteen years, she'd discovered a basic rule-of-thumb where goblins were concerned: The smellier the goblin, the more trouble you could expect and if just being in the same room as one made you gag – your only option was to run. Unless of course it had a chicken with it, then running was completely out of the question, absolutely no sudden movements around the chickens Sir Didymus had warned her – that's how eyes were lost.

Had it really been so long? Sixteen years – almost seventeen and all of them spent waiting.

She seemed to spend her whole life waiting: Waiting to finish school, waiting to get her own apartment, waiting for her agent to call, waiting for the next role to land in her lap (and it always did), waiting in line at the grocery store, waiting to get paid. Sixteen years of waiting for the magic to return into her life, and she wasn't talking about the kind of magic that liked to play hide and seek with her belongings either – she had that particular variety on a weekly basis – unless of course one of those belongings happened to be a baby brother… hmmm.

Sixteen years of waiting for a dream to return.

She'd been offered her dreams once, a long time ago and now she had the distinct impression once is all they were ever offered – never twice.

If she could make peace with the past she would. Her journey into adulthood had taught her many lessons about life, but combined with the sixteen years worth of reflection now slowly drip-feeding her regrets and the only result was a rather inconvenient desire to see a man that she suspected probably wouldn't bother showing up even if she did have the nerve to call him.

She couldn't be more appalled with herself if she tried.

Though her suspicion wasn't one she cared to test out any time soon, words were a binding contract (to some) and one that should never be entered into without full knowledge of the costs involved. So their game had reached a stalemate: she would never call, so he would never come and Hoggle had informed her that even Kings had to follow the rules.

It just didn't do to think like this, she could already feel the prickle of tears behind her eyes and that was never good.

"Yes but, it's just the way it is" she mused, wiping her eyes before the tears could form.

Sarah sighed, eyeing the goblin now trying to clomp its way toward the living room, she really should help him with that can. After all, she did owe him for earlier when he'd rescued her from the unwanted advances of 'helping hands Roger' one of the Junior Partners from Dad's firm – God he was dull and boy was he lecherous. Luckily the sliver-serving tray (minus the vol-au-vents) flying through the air hadn't taken too much explaining to Roger – concussion can work in your favour that way.

Sometimes having goblins around could come in quite handy, though they'd also been responsible for rescuing her (albeit very unwillingly) from the arms of some rather attractive and not in the least bit dull, (but hopefully lecherous) Adonis's over the years, so she figured they were even and left 'clompy' to his stomping.

She decided instead to go finish clearing up outside, making note of the time on the little antique clock as she passed. Almost midnight…

Although late it was still wonderfully warm outside, the kind of night you could sleep without the bedcovers on and still feel too hot. She set about gathering up the remaining glasses and bottles that still adorned the various items of garden furniture, fairy lights twinkling happily around her like stars. From inside the house she could hear the echo of soft chimes as the little clock announced midnight. And everything felt so peaceful and calm that an almost perfect moment passed as the chimes floated through the air around her, while a rustle in the branches overhead caused her to look up and for the first time that evening she suddenly realised it was a full moon.

How had she not noticed that earlier?

It wasn't just that the moon was full, more that it seemed larger than normal, somehow unnatural in the way it was casting its glow around the garden, finding reflective surfaces where there really should be none, causing everything to glitter and sparkle in its wake.

Glitter and sparkle everywhere… like a dream long since lost.

She didn't need to count the clock's chimes; she knew how many uneven notes were now playing. She could taste the magic skimming through the air, resulting in a faint humming sound, the sensation growing with her own apprehension. The garden seemed to expand in size almost losing its neighbouring fences, the boundaries shifting and becoming blurred, while the house suddenly looked so much further now from where she stood than could ever have been possible. But she couldn't deny its beauty, completely mesmerised she could feel herself getting lost in it all. The garden twisting and turning around her until the house was no more than a speck of light on the horizon and her apprehension gave way to a flutter of excitement.

Eyes wide, she stood transfixed. Unsure now of the ground where she stood, it was still her parents' garden but it was also somewhere else. Two different worlds seamlessly joined, but the resulting place was neither one location nor the other.

Then small stomping sounds broke her reverie bringing her back to her senses, she noted a little guiltily that the goblin still had the can attached, although now it had also acquired the silver-serving tray and appeared to be brandishing it like a shield. Looking ready for battle, it gazed furtively at the surroundings, when their eyes met it gave a little wink and scampered off laughing towards darkness that could only resemble an endless wall of cold, hard, stone – while somewhere in the distance she could just make out a jolly little voice…

"Allo, do you realise there's something on your foot? A nice cup of tea will fix that – ooh and the Missus has just made a lovely Battenberg cake."

Smiling, Sarah made her way back over towards one of the tables she had yet to clear, all the while wondering if Battenberg cake tasted nicer than it sounded. The table had been used to serve drinks on and by her reckoning still held a fair section, reaching towards the back she grabbed an untouched bottle and two clean glasses, then headed over to a little secluded bench hidden under one of the larger trees, (being careful to avoid a rather confused looking fairy as it fluttered past a newly appeared obelisk) while swaying her hips a little more than necessary as she walked – the way she did when she knew she was being watched.

She sat down and started to pour the wine, she'd purposely chosen white although a voice in her head had told her that somebody else probably preferred red – she knew it would be a mistake to give into him completely, as even the smallest of victories still counted in this game. Placing one glass down beside her, she raised her own and took a sip, almost choking on the first taste. No wonder it had been left untouched at the back – now _that_ was a wine definitely worthy of the Goblin King!

She laughed. Taking another sip, she had the feeling it was the kind of beverage that started off disagreeable but if given time would become something a lot more palatable – a little like a certain decadent King.

"Well, I hope you've got a good explanation for this Goblin King? I've not said a word this time." She stated, a smile playing over her lips.

It wouldn't be long now, after sixteen years the waiting was almost over…

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_Thanks for reading! What did you think?_


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